


Meet Me Under The Mistletoe

by orphan_account, Qym



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, First-Kiss, Fluff fest, Holiday, Mistletoe, not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8759224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qym/pseuds/Qym
Summary: For the prompt: Kevin gets over exuberant decorating for Christmas, draping mistletoe everywhere. Erin doesn’t notice until she runs into Holtzmann in a doorway.Holtzbert. Happy Holidays from us to you!





	

**Author's Note:**

> ljthebard here: sorry Mom. ;3
> 
> Qym here: hohohomotherfuckers  
> love, qym

The frigid New York City air swirls clouds of snow around the slow trudge of pedestrians, most of whom have their heads bent against the cold. Liking the cold isn’t unheard of, but Erin adores it. She lifts her cheeks to the sky and lets out a puff of warm breath, enjoying how it hangs in front of her face for a few seconds. The chill slips beneath her jacket and curls around her middle, like a hug.

 

Even she is not impervious to the temperature, however, so when she reaches Ghostbusters Headquarters, she doesn’t linger outside. She scuttles inside and removes her snow-covered coat, tossing the garment onto an already-full coat rack. Holtz’s patchwork coat is nearly falling off, so Erin takes a quiet moment to fix it. When she’s certain nobody is looking, she takes a quick sniff. The scent warms her better than the space heater thrumming under Kevin’s desk.

 

The moment Erin looks around, she freezes.

 

“What the--?”

 

The first floor is no longer its usual humming self with bland desks and books and papers scattered here and there--but rather a festivity of the holiday spirit. Like Father Christmas himself had come in and thrown his bag down, and it had exploded like one of Holtzmann’s experiments: all over the repurposed firehouse.

 

A gargantuan tree of at _least_ fourteen feet stands in the far right corner near Patty’s library where Kevin is steadying a ladder for Patty to hang ornaments off of. Abby is at the kitchenette making hot cocoa, and Christmas jingles are blaring down from Holtzmann’s lab, the surround-sound speakers she’d managed to purchase (“No questions asked.”) doing their job of filling the firehouse with the sounds of Mariah Carey and Tony Bennett. Garland wraps around the handrails to the staircases, and the firepole has been decorated with strands of colored lights that seem to flicker in time with the music.

 

She blinks once, twice, and then slowly moves deeper into the space. She goes first to Abby, who hands her a mug of steaming liquid covered in a healthy portion of mini marshmallows. Her first sip makes her hum in approval.

 

“So… What exactly--what is all this? I thought… Well, since we’re paid by the government, are we even allowed to have Christmas decorations?”

 

Abby shrugs as she preps her own hot cocoa. “Kevin wanted to. And he’s like a puppy, you know? You try telling that face no. He said it would make it feel more like home, since he can’t be with his mom and Mike Hat.”

 

“It’s certainly… _festive_.” She settles on the least offensive adjective she can summon. “Will this interfere with any of the equipment? And we won’t be able to slide down the pole with all those lights.”

 

“Consider this my gift to you, then, since you always seem to panic when Holtz comes down that way.”

 

Erin flushes.

 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Erin deflects and sips at her cocoa, pretending for a moment that Abby doesn’t know that it’s the thought of the blonde engineer making her blush and not the warmth from the chocolate-y drink.

 

“Well then, I suggest you watch out for our little _gifts_ Kevin decided to leave all over the firehouse.” Abby winks and turns to go help the receptionist and Patty finish up the tree decorations.

 

“Wha--?” Erin looks around the firehouse, not noticing anything _too_ out of the ordinary--other than the multitude of Christmas decorations, she _does_ notice a menorah and thinks to herself for a moment whether any of them might practice Chanukah, but she isn’t for certain.

 

Christmas had never been much of a tradition in the Gilbert household. After the whole neighbor-ghost haunting her bedroom every night for nearly a year _thing_ , Erin’s parents and her therapist decided for her to learn the ugly truth about other things that “weren’t real,” such as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. Soon, Christmas became nothing more than an occasion to hear her parents argue over where their money was spent and then for them to force Erin into a ridiculously itchy Christmas sweater to take stilted, posed family portraits that would be sent out to Erin’s only distant relatives--

 

A loud crash from above the stairwell abruptly brings Erin back from memory lane, and she glances up, waiting to hear Holtzmann let them know that everything is just dandy. She knows, as do the other Ghostbusters, that only silence in Holtzmann’s lab is a cause for fear.

 

“All good!” Holtzmann’s voice rings out over the music.

 

That was likely true, but Erin couldn’t deny that she was just looking for an excuse to go upstairs and see the petite engineer. She tries to remain cool, but Patty is looking straight at her. Her flush increases, putting her in fierce competition with the ruddy red hue of most of the ornaments hanging on the tree.

 

“What?” she asks, cradling the cup close to her chest.

 

Patty laughs. “Just go up and see your girl already.”

 

“She’s not--I mean, we’re…” Erin stutters a moment longer before heading quickly--but nonchalantly because she’s not in any hurry to see her very _platonic_ friend Holtzmann--to the stairs. She brushes her fingers over the garland as she nears and decides that getting into the holiday spirit might not be totally awful.

 

Because her childhood had been so rough around the holidays, she’d never been inspired to try celebrating later. But seeing all of this around the firehouse makes her want to make better, happier memories with her _new_ family. Getting fired from Columbia was the best thing that had ever happened to her, even if the experience had not seemed like anything remotely positive at the time. She’d connected with Abby, and then Holtzmann by proxy, and they’d all welcomed Patty into the fold. She treasures her relationships with all of them much more than she can eloquently verbalize.

 

Over Thanksgiving, she’d tried, but all that had escaped her lips was a “Um, you guys, you’re… like…I mean--you’re great. Thanks,” before she sunk low in her seat and listened to everyone else go on at length about their love for this little family.

 

She crests the stairs and listens to the jangling music that only grows in volume as she moves closer.

 

“ _That’s the jingle bell rooooooooock!_ ” Holtzmann is loud and completely off-key as she gyrates her hips while tossing a strand of stripped wire over her shoulder and continues tinkering with the Ghost-chipper. She’s wearing a ridiculously ugly Christmas sweater that would make her own mother deny a relationship with her, but the garment was so tragically Holtzmann and therefore, made Erin smile. There are clashing colors, sparkling LED lights, and unfortunately placed ornaments that rest over the peak of Holtz’s breasts like festive censor bars.

 

Erin can’t help but smirk at the blonde and feels her traitorous heart begin doing double-time. She bets her heart rate could rival a hummingbird’s.

 

Holtzmann glances up at Erin from behind her aviator goggles and throws Erin a saucy smirk and a wink as the next song -- _Oh, Holy Night_ \-- begins to play. Holtzmann whips out a thin black remote to change the song with an elaborate flourish.

 

“Too slow,” Holtzmann admonishes. The next tune that pops on is rather interesting and not at all like any classic Erin can recall; the poppy female voice asks Santa if her true love will stick around ‘til next year--catchy.

 

“Happy Holidays, Holtz,” Erin smiles and unwraps her scarf. Placing it on the back of her chair, she boots up her laptop and prepares to get to work. One glance around, however, does not result in her finding her favorite batch of dry-erase markers that she uses to write out equations on her whiteboard.

 

“Holtzmann, have you seen my markers?” Erin asks with a frown.

 

“Oh, yeah, I _may_ have borrowed them a while ago to try and measure out the new proton shotgun--” Holtz responds with a guilty--yet somehow still cheeky--smile.

 

“Wha--why did--Holtz, don’t you have a ruler?” Erin demands, incredulous.

 

“Lost it.” Holtz shrugs and goes back to humming along to the jingle. Erin rolls her eyes, unable to remain mad but still searching fruitlessly for her markers, or at least a replacement pack. After coming up short, she huffs, shuts her desk drawer, and settles on a little payback.

 

“If you’re going to lose them, you’re also going to help me find them,” Erin reaches over into Holtzmann’s toolbox and snatches one of the blonde’s favorite screwdrivers. Dangerous? Nah. Childish? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.

 

Holtz stretches a hand out and wiggles her fingers. She says, with no shortage of petulance, “Gimme.”

 

Erin shakes her head. “You’ll get that back when we find my markers.”

 

“But…”

 

“No buts, Holtzmann.”

 

Holtz immediately titters. “But, Dr. Gilbert, you’ve already broken your own rule.”

 

“I--what?” Erin stares blankly at her.

 

“You’ve got a butt. A nice one, too.”

 

The blush threatens to overwhelm her this time, and Erin can’t find an adequate response. She marches to her desk before she says something embarrassing. “My position remains. Markers or no screwdriver.” She tosses the screwdriver into her desk drawer and closes it with finesse, crossing her arms and almost challenging Holtzmann to defy her with a glare.

 

Holtzmann digs into her desk drawer for a moment and pulls out a neatly wrapped present--the wrapping paper is covered in ghosts wearing party hats with the words HAPPY BOO-RTHDAY. Someone, likely Holtz, has added (Jesus) after each, and there is a gaudy green bow tied on the front. She places the package reverently on Erin’s desk. “Merry Christmas, Er.”

 

“Christmas isn’t for another three weeks.”

 

“Details.” Holtz pushes the present closer. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

 

“But I haven’t even gotten you anything yet.” Erin blushes as she accepts the gift and undoes the tape neatly pulling the wrapping off of the package, careful not to tear it and pulls the gift free from its paper prison at last.

 

She withdraws a package of whiteboard markers. On closer inspection, she realizes that they’re her own markers, as they’re already covered in bite marks. She can’t stop the wheezing laugh that erupts. She takes the emerald bow and with a fun smirk, slaps it up on top of Holtzmann’s poof of blonde hair, cracking up even more as the engineer squawks indignantly.

 

Suddenly, Holtz’s expression turns rather sultry. “Why, Erin, would you like to unwrap me, too?”

 

Erin does a marvelous impression of Rudolph’s nose as she fights to maintain eye contact with Holtzmann after that comment. She shakes her head and smiles, thanking Holtzmann for this truly magnificent gift (“Really, you shouldn’t have.”) and retrieves Holtzmann’s screwdriver out of her desk and returns it to Holtzmann.

 

“Sorry I didn’t wrap your gift. Merry Christmas, Holtz.”

 

Their hands touch as Holtz reaches to take the screwdriver from her, and Erin’s breath catches in her throat. This small gesture is more than enough to make her a tongue-tied mess yet again. Thankfully, she’s saved from saying more; Kevin comes up with a large box of decorations, wearing a Santa hat and a set of bells around his neck (most likely so Patty and Abby can keep an ear out for him).

 

Erin laughs as Holtzmann joins in on Kevin’s decorating frenzy by hopping on his back like a koala and instructing him on what machines to not tamper with as they begin hanging tinsel from one of the massive containment units.

 

She shakes her head and gets back to working on some of her equations to help correct the mechanism that caused her proton pistol to misfire back during the Rowan incident. She’d grown quite fond of the gun, and Holtzmann had promised her a new one that worked ten times as good as the last one.

 

“How many of these do you have already hanging around, Kev?” Holtzmann is chortling conspiratorially with Kev and Erin ignores their sibling-dynamic as she goes to sip at her cocoa before spitting the lukewarm liquid back into the cup with a grimace.

 

“I’m going to go reheat this,” Erin calls out over her shoulder, heading back down the stairwell to the kitchenette where she could microwave her drink. She doesn’t know what they’re talking about, and she doesn’t think it matters much.

 

She places her mug in the microwave and stares up at the fancy tree that is finally decorated properly and imagines what Christmas day will be like with people who actually care about the season. The one thing that will likely happen here that occurred at home as well is an awkward sweater photograph--that seems right up Holtzmann’s alley.

 

Erin shifts her gaze down to her feet. She’s had these strong feelings for Holtzmann for some time now, but Holtzmann never responded in a serious manner. Holtz flirts with everyone, and she doesn’t think there’s anything special about their interactions--so she’s too scared to make the first move. After Phil all but trashed their “relationship,” and showed Erin just how little she seemed to matter to others, she’s a little hesitant to put herself out there once again. She knows with absolute certainty that Holtzmann will not intentionally hurt her. But… But there’s still the chance that Holtz doesn’t feel the same, and she doesn’t want to face that painful likelihood.

 

Instead, she enjoys their gentle teasing and playful banter. She likes having her markers stolen and then gifted back. She likes the singing and the dancing and the small glances that are all just for her.

 

The microwave dings, and she retrieves her now-warm drink once more. She finishes what’s left and ditches the mug in the sink before heading back upstairs.

 

Erin reaches the middle of the staircase when she hears it, more laughter--this time from Kev and then Holtzmann, and she wonders what on Earth those two are getting up to now. Despite that Holtzmann often still thought Kev could be “too dumb to function in society,” she loved ribbing him, and his goofiness sort of matched her crazy. They were like brother and sister, and Holtz had once joked that she could bring him home, and her parents wouldn’t notice the difference, given how many other siblings she already had.

 

“Whatever you two are plotting, at least take it downstairs-- _whoa!_ ” Erin yelps, nearly colliding with Holtzmann who jumps down from Kevin’s back at the exact moment she comes to the top of the stairs and enters the lab. Kevin quickly steps back and out of the entranceway, grinning like the puppy that he is and jingling with every step.

 

Erin’s eyes narrow. Holtzmann beams, rocks on the balls of her feet, and gazes up at Erin.

 

Erin decides she doesn’t want to know and goes to step around Holtzmann, but Holtz stops her by promptly sidestepping into her path. Erin side-steps to the left this time, and Holtzmann mimics her movements. Erin sighs.

 

“Did you set my desk on fire again, Holtz?” Holtzmann shakes her head, still grinning but now looking slightly nervous. Her eyes trace a path from above Erin’s head to--Erin dares think it, gulping--her lips.

 

“Holtz, what--?”

 

“Erin, look up,” Kevin exclaims--unable to hold in his excitement any longer.

 

Erin looks up and froze. There, dangling from the doorframe, is a bundle of mistletoe. She looks down at Holtz again. Swallowing is very difficult, and her stomach churns with anxiety.

 

“Oh, haha.” Erin takes a step back. “Funny, guys.”

 

“You have to,” Kevin instructs. “It’s the law.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Holtz murmurs, much more quietly and with much less vigor than her usual. “But--I’d like to.”

 

Erin stammers. “Y-you’d like to?”

 

“If that’s cool with you?”

 

There’s but a moment more of hesitation. “Is this a joke?”

 

Holtzmann’s eyes widen, her stare serious as she stops rocking and shakes her head at Erin. “No. I’d really like to kiss you, if that’s what you want.”

 

Erin considers revealing her feelings, but she is mindful of Kevin as her audience and feels herself grow embarrassed under his puppy dog gaze--she’s waited so long for this and now she’s clamming up because she doesn’t want this to just be because of some silly Christmas “tradition.”

 

“I’ve been…” But the words just won’t come. Out of her peripheral, she notes Kev dismisses himself further into the lab--then, a touch, gentle on her face, from the calloused pads of Holtzmann’s fingertips, bringing her chin up. Erin doesn’t realize she’s begun crying until Holtz wipes a stray tear from her cheek.

 

“Erin, I’m serious, you don’t have to--I just... I wanted.” Holtz bites her lower lip and then leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Erin’s mouth, causing the physicist’s heart to practically stop and then stutter onward again. Erin gasps, and her eyes close at the sensation of Holtzmann kissing her, even so indirectly. It’s over before it truly begins, and Erin reacts instinctively as Holtzmann pulls back, reaching her arms up and around Holtz’s slender neck. She pulls the engineer back and kisses her, fully and passionately, sighing into their melded mouths as her knees grow weak. Holtzmann’s arms steady and ground her while she figuratively floats away.

 

None of her daydreams prepared her for this moment. Her brain struggles to process every sensory detail, from the warmth of Holtz’s skin on hers to the delicate scent of Holtz’s cologne. She tastes faint peppermint on Holtz’s tongue, which laps against her lips and then slips into her mouth. The kiss is simple, gentle--almost chaste--but she’s never experienced something this intimate before. No words pass between them, but she feels as though she understands Holtz so much better than before.

 

They break apart with a soft, barely audible sound, and Erin rests her forehead against Holtz’s. She breathes slowly and keeps her eyes closed, afraid to end the moment. Holtz’s fingers catch under her chin.

 

“Was that okay?”

 

Erin nods, tears still leaking from her eyes, but she’s smiling, oh, is she ever smiling.

 

“C’mon, talk to me. My brain’s going all sorts of fast right now, and I’m anxious--that this wasn’t good for you. It was--it was great on my end.” Holtz stumbles over her words, her tongue seemingly unable to keep up with the onslaught of her worries.

 

Erin finally opens her eyes, blinks back the tears, and grins so hard that her face actually begins to hurt from the effort, her heart attempting to break free from her chest and give itself over to Holtzmann wholly. She opens her mouth to reassure Holtz, but her tongue feels thick in her mouth. The lump in her throat feels akin to that of last month’s Thanksgiving speech scandal.

 

She instead chooses to lean forward and kiss Holtz again, pouring every ounce of emotion into the way she caresses Holtz’s jawline with her fingers, the way she peppers soft kisses against Holtz’s lips, then chin and nose and eyebrows and cheeks--Holtz scrunches up her face and chuckles, squeezing at Erin’s sides.

 

Erin shows her in the way she grips at the blonde’s sweater and how she pushes herself even further into Holtzmann’s arms just to be closer. She breaks from showering the woman’s face with kisses to gently nuzzling her neck, breathing in the smell of smoke mixed with her cologne and that distinctly earthy scent that was just so uniquely Holtzmann, and allows the blonde to rock them back and forth.

 

The physicist is happy--incredibly so and regardless of tradition, she is more than grateful to the mistletoe; rather than a bit of leaves and toxic berries, the mistletoe seems to be more like a shooting star, hovering overhead and bringing her deepest desire to fruition.

 

“Can I come out, yet?”

 

Holtz snorts. “Kev, buddy, you didn’t need to hide under the table.”

 

He scoots out and awkwardly gets to his feet. He dusts himself off and grins widely. “I thought it was good practice. Hide and seek finals next month, y’know?”

 

“Then great job.” Holtz hasn’t redirected her fervent attention from Erin, despite the light conversation. “How about you go downstairs now and make sure our phone message is something holly jolly?”

 

He lights up at the idea and hurries past them, the bells around his neck jangling. Erin releases a deep sigh and leans back, still in Holtz’s arms but far enough to make direct eye contact. There’s something glinting in Holtz’s gaze that suggests this means just as much to Holtz as to her.

 

“So, that happened.”

 

“Affirmative. I would like that to happen again, as well.” Holtz manages a cocky smirk.

 

“I mean, we could definitely…”

 

“Kev hid mistletoe around the firehouse.” The gifts Abby mentioned before, Erin realizes. Holtz tweaks her nose. “How about we try to find them all?”

 

There are, by their count at the end of the day, thirty-two. However, as scientists, they consider it their duty to replicate their results the next day.

 

xFINx


End file.
